A Payment of Blood
by Bonnie Caledonia
Summary: Sacramento, California 1937. I don't think I need to say more. Do you?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello, back again after a lengthy absence. Been busy lately with something called life. Anyway, so here's my new fic. Tell me what you think. :)

Chapter 1

Sacramento, California 1937

My name is Patrick Jane. I'm a private detective. That is, I'm in the employment of a private detective by the name of Virgil Minelli of Minelli & Wainwright Investigations. Wainwright was Virgil's old partner, but he got himself popped a few years back. Virg just never bothered to take the name down. Sentimentality I suppose.

I grew up in the carnival making my living as a fake psychic. They called me The Boy Wonder. I didn't like the carnie lifestyle and neither did the woman I fell in love with, Angela. We ran away together, got married . I continued my work as a fake psychic. Ang didn't like it, but I was good at it, and I got a thrill out of conning people, as twisted as that sounds.

We had a beautiful daughter; her name was Charlotte... was. She died, Charlotte and her mother. Actually they were murdered. By a serial killer named Red John. It was my fault. I won't go into details, but let's just say I wrote something I shouldn't have and he killed them to punish me. I hunted Red John for ten years and finally put him in the ground with the help of the California Bureau of Investigation. Sounds made up I know, but honestly, it does exist. It's like the Bureau of Investigation (now called the Federal Bureau of Investigation, FBI), but more conveniently located.

"Jane."

That's my partner, Lisbon. She's... yeah, that's right, Lisbon is a woman. Unusual sure, but it does come in handy sometimes. Anyways, Teresa (that's her first name), is pretty much my better half to be honest. I met her several years back when I was still working homicide with the CBI. We'd caught a case she was already investigating and instead of letting us take it over she fought for it. She wouldn't give it up just because we got called in. She was (still is), feisty. I liked that about her. Truthfully I don't think I made a very good first impression, but then I hardly ever do. Not if I'm being my honest-to-goodness self.

She got used to me eventually, I made sure of that. I kind of drove the poor girl nuts for a while, but she fascinated me. There aren't a lot of people that can hold my interest for any real length of time, but she sure did. So after I got Red John about two years ago I finagled a job out of Virgil and came to work for Minelli & Wainwright Investigations. The arrangement didn't sit well with Lisbon at first, however, in the end I won her over hook, line and sinker. Now we're practically best friends. Not exactly the place I wanted to be, but you know...

Oh, I'm not saying I don't want to be her friend, it's just, over the years I've got it into my head we should be more than that, but she's rebelling against the idea and I don't know why. Well, that's not quite true. I know why, sort of. I am kind of a complicated mess I guess, considering my past, but I'm definitely better than I used to be, thanks to her. And that's why I'm going to keep at it till I get her, because she's worth it. I love her like I never thought I'd love anyone again. And she doesn't want to admit it, but she loves me too. So I'll find a way to eventually convince her we're a 'match made in heaven' as they say.

"Jane."

Oh, she's irritated now. Lisbon hates repeating herself.

"Will you get the lead out and come on? Minelli wants us."

I wait a few moments just to raise her hackle a bit more.

A sudden kick is the punishment my poor old couch receives for my tardiness. Apparently I waited a few seconds too long.

I decide to play with her a bit as retribution for the harm done to my most beloved piece of furniture.

I stretch out languidly in my prone position and then blink up at her sleepily.

"Oh, hey Lisbon. What's up?"

"You know darn well what's up Jane. Now come on."

"Very well," I reply through a yawn.

Although she's used to this kind of behavior from me her ire is still stirred up when I, as she defines it, act like a spoiled brat.

For the most part she simply walks away when faced with my childish moods and this time is no different. She spins sharply on her heel and heads toward Minelli's office without me.

Sensing this is the right moment to switch off irritating five year old and turn on the charming, mature adult, I hop off the couch in a sprightly fashion and catch up with her before she can make it to Minelli's office door.

"This better not be about the Tolliver case, 'cause I'm not going to take any of the heat for that shemozzle."

She must be having a bad day. She's usually not this short with me. In fact, most of the time she's amused by my antics... Okay, not 'most of the time', but about twenty-five percent of it.

"Nah, he already nearly fired me for that one," I reassure her.

"Good."

"Lisbon really, how is it good that he nearly fired me?" I make myself sound offended.

"Why don't you grow up Jane?" she scolds as she knocks on Minelli's office door, a little harder than necessary. She really much be having a bad day. Perhaps I should ease off of the teasing for a while, but of course, my own advice never works on me.

"What fun would I be then Lisbon?"

She gives me a cold look.

Alright, that was the last jab for a little while... maybe.

A muffled "come in", sounds from inside the office and Lisbon opens the door.

The aging man behind the desk is doing paperwork. I pity him, personally I hate paperwork. Not that I actually do much of it. I prefer to leave it to Lisbon, and she doesn't really mind. She says when I do it I just make a shambles of it anyway.

"Hey Boss," Lisbon greets Virgil.

"Lisbon, Jane." he responds. "We have a case."

"An interesting one?" I query.

Lisbon rolls her eyes.

"How does that make any difference?"

"Well it may not to you Miss Dull'Grumpy, but it happens to mean a great deal to me," I reply with zest.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch Minelli shaking his head at us. He thinks I'm a pain in the... well, you know, and that I make Lisbon's life a misery. What he doesn't know is that she loves every minute of it. Without me her life would be as dull as an old shoe. In fact it was before I came along. I saved her from a life of boredom and yet, have I ever been thanked for it? Of course not. But I'm drifting off topic here.

"A high society broad by the name of Erica Flynn thinks her husband is cheating on her," Virgil interjects.

"How droll," I mumble, completely deflated. We haven't had a good case in weeks and, to me, it's beginning to show. As Agatha Christie's Poirot would put it, the 'little grey cells' are in constant need of exercise.

"Hush Jane, it's a job," Lisbon admonishes.

I huff softly, a little irritated with Lisbon for shushing me.

"She wants us to tail him," Minelli continues.

"High society means that if he is having an affair he's most likely meeting up with his mistress, or mistresses at social functions." Lisbon says. "High society social functions," she emphasizes. "We'll stick out like two women in a barber shop in that kind of setting."

"Expenses are paid for." Virgil explains. "You can buy whatever you'll need for a night on the town in Snob City and it'll be covered."

"Shopping?"

Lisbon's voice and face show her distaste of this prospect. I, however, am tickled pink. Maybe this won't be as tedious as I had previously thought.

"Wonderful Lisbon, we can go together," I announce joyously.

"You're pulling my leg," she says, unbelieving of my sincerity.

"No pulling," I reply. "Shopping for clothing together is essential. High society couples color coordinate."

"Couples?" she questions.

"Of course, how do you expect us to be able to incorporate ourselves into the upper class to spy on Mrs. Flynn's husband if we're too busy fending off admirers?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't kid yourself Lisbon. It's a lion's den in Big Wig Town. Anyone who is attractive and available is promptly trounced."

"I think you're overestimating your physical appeal Jane."

"How do you know I wasn't referring to you, dear?"

She colors very slightly and it's such a light blush I barely catch it before it fades.

"Masquerading as a married couple will give us the advantage of going almost completely unnoticed by the locals."

"Yeah right," Lisbon growls. "You just want the satisfaction of forcing me to try on uncomfortable clothing."

"Couldn't be the furthest thing from my mind," I lie.

"Fine," she gives in none too happily. "We'll go shopping together."

"Excellent."

I rub my hands in glee. This is going to be so much fun.

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Thanks for reading. If you want to leave a review that would be great!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thank you mentalcollabs, CrazerCat, Ennui Enigma and tikismile for your kind and encouraging reviews. They mean a lot. :)

And, just a side note I should've mentioned in Chapter 1: Jane and Lisbon are likely to be somewhat OOC seeing as they're private detectives & living in 1937.

Chapter 2

"Oh for goodness sake, you look lovely Teresa. Now come on."

"Are you sure it's alright?"

"Yes."

Actually it's much better than simply alright. She looks absolutely beautiful, but she would probably think I was mocking her if I said so. For being such a strong, independent woman she's oddly insecure about appearance. I don't mean in general, just when she spiffs up. Which really is utterly absurd because, as I said, she looks absolutely beautiful.

"I'm just not sure about this dress."

"Are you going to start insulting me taste in clothing? Because, if so, I'm going in the club and leaving you here."

Really, I'm a touch offended. By now I would think she'd trust my impeccable sense of style.

"I'm not criticizing your taste, Jane. I'm simply not sure if it's the best look for me."

"Nonsense, it's perfect for you."

And it really was. The velvety fabric flowed gently over the curves of her body, conforming but no molding too snugly. There were no sleeves. The neckline came up high in the front and then made a graceful downward slope at the back. The skirt was tight, but only to the extent that the wearer was unable to make a long stride. And it was floor length with just a hint of train. However, it's best feature was the color, a solid emerald green. It was the perfect color for Lisbon on account of her green eyes, pale skin and ebony hair.

Oh, and speaking of her hair, it too was gorgeous. Not that it isn't lovely all the time, but tonight she has done it in a particularly attractive style. Instead of fashioning her hair in the prolific bob many women are wearing now Lisbon's is long. And although I think she would look quite fetching with short hair, I must admit to being very fond of her chosen cut. In any case, being that her hair is of the long variety, for this evening she has pinned it up elegantly with a simple yet beautiful jeweled clip. The effect of her hair and the neckline of the dress make her slender neck seem longer and allows into view the cream colored skin of her delicate yet well defined back.

And last, but certainly not least, I purchased a pair of subtly striking earrings for her. The emerald jewels aren't large enough to draw attention away from Teresa's pretty face, but they complete her outfit superbly.

"Now come on," I continue, reaching for one of her fidgeting hands and sliding it through my arm. "We have a job to do."

"Right, of course," she answered as we made our way to the high society nightclub our suspected adulterer was in the habit of frequenting. "Just so you know Jane..."

"Patrick," I interject. "Undercover, remember?"

"Patrick," she corrected. "I do appreciate the fashion lesson. And by the way, you cut a good figure yourself."

"Thank you Lisbon."

"Teresa."

Alright, I deserved that one.

But yes, I suppose I do cut a fine enough figure. However, I'm quite literally being choked by this infernal bow tie. As a rule I don't wear ties. My usual attire consists of a three piece suit sans the fabric noose other members of my sex insist on knotting round their throats. All the same I suppose it's not so bad if only for a limited amount of time.

Reaching the door of the club Lisbon and I are stopped by a man who looks very much like a butler.

"May I have your name sir?"

"Patrick McConnell."

"And the lady?"

"The lady is my wife."

"Of course sir."

I sense he doesn't really believe me.

"We're friends of Mrs. Erica Flynn," I explain.

The man's demeanor changes immediately.

"Oh, my apologies sir, please come in."

"Thank you," I answer in my most haughty tone.

Good show that actually worked. Apparently Mrs. Erica Flynn has some pull in this neighborhood.

When we reach the interior of the club Lisbon straight away begins to look around for John Flynn. I do the same and it only takes a few minutes for us to realize he hasn't arrived yet.

Lisbon leans closer and whispers to me.

"What if he doesn't come tonight?"

"I doubt it. Minelli said Mrs. Flynn was sure he'd be here. Most of the time the wife is right."

"Oh really?"

"Yes really. He'll be here."

"So what do we do until then?"

"Have a couple drinks, do a little dancing."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"About what, the drinks or the dancing?" I ask with a tinge of impudence.

"Both," she states firmly. "We're on the job."

"Fine," I capitulate. "No drinks. But what's the harm of a dance or two?"

"Are you kidding?" she asks incredulously. "In this dress? I'd probably break my neck."

"Poppycock Teresa. Keeping you from breaking your neck is the job of your dance partner."

"And I'm just supposed to put the safety of my neck in your hands?"

"Actually, that's not where the hands go. You see, I put one hand here," I demonstrate, "and the other hand..."

"Cut it out," she says irritably, batting my hands away.

"Stick in the mud."

"I am not."

"Fine, coward then."

"Excuse me?"

That definitely got her goat.

"You're afraid to dance with me. You're afraid you'll enjoy it."

"No I'm not."

"No?"

"No."

"Well come on then," I say, pulling her toward the dance floor.

"Jane, wait..." Lisbon stutters.

"It's Patrick, sweetheart."

She stops resisting after a few moments knowing she can't get out of this without making a scene.

"There we are, relax," I soothe while beginning to sway us back and forth to the rhythm of the music.

I've heard the song before. I think it's called Smoke Gets in Your Eyes. Yes, that's it.

It's really quite a pretty melody, and from what I can remember of the words rather astute as well.

I start singing them softly as Lisbon and I dance.

"They said someday you'll find

All who love are blind.

When your heart's on fire

You must realize,

Smoke get's in your eyes..."

I can't recall the rest, but I know it doesn't have a happy ending.

"It's kind of true," Lisbon says suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"What you were just singing," she explains.

"Ah, yes, it is," I concur.

"The song doesn't have a very satisfying ending though."

"Mm, I know."

"But it's a nice tune anyway."

"It is isn't it?"

I know what she's doing. She's trying to keep talking so she doesn't feel so awkward dancing with me.

"It's not my favorite, but..." she attempts to keep the conversation going. But I pull back a little and place my forefinger over her mouth to silence her.

"Sh, Teresa."

When I'm satisfied she'll stay quiet I return to our previous position. I can feel her give in to the pleasure of just letting herself enjoy the dance. Her tense body loosens and she places her head gently on my shoulder. I try to steady my rapidly increasing pulse. It's been awhile since I've done anything like this. It feels good... very good.

All too soon, or at least too soon for me, the song ends. Lisbon pulls back and I lead her to a table in one corner of the room.

I order some drinks (water, since Teresa's so finicky about drinking on the job), then sit back and observe Lisbon's nervous fidgeting. She's embarrassed about the dance.

"You're a good dancer," I comment casually.

"Thanks," she replies, obviously still feeling awkward.

"I know I couldn't to so well in that dress."

I know I've succeeded in easing some of her discomfiture when she turns her head away to conceal an amused smirk.

"Or those heels."

This time she can't hide her smile.

"Thanks for that permanent image Ja- Patrick," she says with a light laugh.

"My pleasure," I reply, confident she is now much more at ease.

Our drinks arrive and a few moments later so does our job.

"Hey, he's here." Lisbon nudges my leg with her foot.

"I see him."

"No girl with him," she remarks. "Maybe he's meeting her here. I wonder which one of these rich, entitled, bratty broads it is."

"Why Mrs. McConnell," I admonish playfully, "such language for so proper a looking lady."

"Who said I was a lady?" she asks, smirking evilly.

"I did, and you are."

"I bet you say that to all your women."

"You know you're the only woman for me."

Lisbon flushes slightly at my words and looks away from me to continue watching our Mr. Flynn.

He's a middle aged man. Handsome enough I suppose, but not to the extent that women would be falling over themselves for him.

Not long after his arrival he starts exuding evidence that he is agitated and then only a few minutes later leaves the club.

Lisbon starts to rise from her seat, undoubtedly intending to follow him, but I stay her with my hand on her shoulder.

"Jane, what are you doing? We need to follow him," she insists with irritation.

"Not now Teresa. He's made us."

"What? How?"

"I'll explain later. We should stay a little longer for appearance sake."

"Fine, but I don't understand why."

"You will. Now, how about one last dance before we go?"

"Do we have to?"

"Appearances sweetheart, we're keeping up appearances."

Actually, it's just because I want another dance, but when you're dealing with someone like Lisbon you have to be a little... well, misleading at times.

"Oh alright, but just one and then can we go?"

"Absolutely," I agree while leading her onto the floor just as the first strings of Cheek to Cheek begin to play.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Reviews are food for the soul of a lowly fanfic writer.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: Thanks to all who have taken the time to read this story... and to review as well. It really does make my day. Thank you.

Chapter 3

We're both silent on the taxi ride to Lisbon's apartment, preferring to discuss business in private. But as soon as we're inside Lisbon's home she pounces.

"Okay, so what couldn't you explain at the club?"

"The people at the club tipped him off that we were there."

"They knew we were detectives?"

"No, they knew were were 'friends' of Mrs. Flynn."

"Yeah, you said so to that butler guy at the door. Why would that make a difference?"

"Because they didn't want us finding out and telling John Flynn's wife that he is an unfaithful husband."

"Wait, all these people know he's having an affair?"

"Well, not all of them, but a good many."

"But if so many people know about it why haven't any of them let it slip to Erica Flynn?"

"Because she has no friends."

"What?"

"Oh yes. Our client indulges in some fun between the sheets of the wrong bed herself. And if I'm not very much mistaken the wrong bed, or more likely beds, are probably of the already taken variety. It makes sense that the women in her circle don't feel like doing her any favors."

"How do you know she's cheating on him?"

"Observation."

"You haven't even met Erica Flynn."

"No, but I've been around the people that know her. Believe me Lisbon, she's an adultress."

"Fine, but what about any men friends? Surely they must know about Mr. Flynn's infidelity as well?"

"Certainly, but they're too scared of their wives to tattletale. Or they just don't consider it any of their business."

Lisbon's brow furrows.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

"I think it stinks that we're helping her find evidence against her husband so she can get a better deal in their divorce and she's doing the exact same thing he is."

"I know, it's definitely sordid, but hey, a job's a job as you always say."

"Yeah, yeah. It just makes me feel like I'm aiding and abetting."

"Don't make it sound so criminal Lisbon. We're not breaking the law."

"No, but it still rubs me the wrong way."

"That's because you're an honest person."

"And you're not. Is that what you're saying?"

"I think I have the right to an attorney don't I detective?" I joke.

She smiles and rolls her eyes at me.

Someday I should count how many times a day I maker her do that... roll her eyes at me that is.

"Do you want some tea before you go?" she offers.

"Of course, you know I never turn down a cup of tea."

Turning toward her small kitchen she continues talking.

"What's the strategy for out next tail outing?"

I can hear her filling the tea kettle.

"I have no idea."

The sound of Lisbon lighting the stove top burner drifts to where I'm seated on her sofa.

"So the usual make-it-up-as-we-go-along plan then," she states as she sashays back into the sitting room.

I take a moment to appreciate the gentle sway of her hips as she walks toward me.

"Can you take care of the water when it boils? I want to go take this get up off."

She gestures to her dress.

"Sure."

"Thanks," she responds and makes her way to the stairs that lead to her bedroom.

Before she disappears out of sight I take one last opportunity to enjoy the vision she makes in that emerald green gown.

It's too bad she practically never has the occasion to wear such clothes. Maybe I can find a way for her to wear it again sometime.

By the time the kettle has begun it's high pitched squealing to signal it's ready Lisbon had not yet returned, so I set about to make us a pot of tea.

She doesn't have much in the way of variety in her selection of teas, but then she's more of a coffee drinker. The main reason she keeps tea in store at all is because of my occasional visits.

Of the choices at my disposal I choose the chamomile. It might help Lisbon's tension to relax. She really is too high strung at times.

When the tea is sufficiently steeped I return to the sitting room with the refreshment, pour myself a cup and wait for my partner's reappearance.

I nearly choke on my tea when she finally does reemerge, because there coming toward me was my Teresa Lisbon dressed in a pair of man's pajamas. Baby blue and white stripped pajamas to be precise.

My surprise must have been evident on my face for Lisbon looks at me with an amused smile gracing her lips.

"What, you've never seen a woman in a man's pjs before?" she asks as she sits down on the couch.

"Actually, no I haven't," I reply while trying to school my features into my usual cool and calm expression.

Her smile drops and I can tell she's afraid she's done something inappropriate.

"Oh."

I rush to assure her that she's done nothing distasteful.

"Don't get me wrong, they suit you down to the ground. I was just surprised that's all."

At my reassurance her discomfort fades and she begins to comb through her ebony locks with her fingers. The result of wearing her hair up has caused it to become wildly tangled and curly. I like it myself, but she apparently prefers that it be tamed into submission.

However, it seems that the dark strands refuse to submit and Lisbon lets out an aggravated huff as she tries, in vain, to release a particularly stubborn knot from her hair.

Seeing her difficulty I set my teacup on the low table in front of her couch and move closer to her.

Lisbon looks at me with curiosity, wondering what I'm doing.

"Here," I say while turning her gently so her back is facing me. "Let me."

"I don't think you'll be able to help much. I should go brush it out."

She starts to stand but I stop her before she can rise from her seated position.

"No it's alright. Brushing it will hurt. I can do it with relatively little pain," I say in an attempt to persuade her.

"Okay... I guess," she agrees with some hesitance.

I replace her fingers with my own, running them through her hair, gently undoing the knots.

I'd only intended to help her in de-knotting her hair, but once I've finished with the de-tangling process I find myself wanting to continue and braid it as well, which is exactly what I do.

Lisbon doesn't comment about it and I'm grateful. I would have difficulty explaining to her why I felt compelled to do this.

You see, Lisbon and I don't talk about our pasts with each other very often; it's too much of a depressing subject for both of us. Anyway, to be honest, when I started helping helping her I felt a kind of deja vu. I remembered the last time I had done something like this. It was years ago when my family was still alive and I was a different man. I often tended to my daughter's hair when her mother was busy. Her's was curly like mine is and the length of it caused her no end of trouble when it came to brushing and braiding. It was always a trial to try and make her sit still while I attempted to comb her curly locks into some semblance of neatness, but I loved doing it all the same. I suppose it might seem a tad odd that doing the same thing with Lisbon made me feel strangely happy, but it did.

When I reach the end of the braid I realize I may not have thought this through as well as I might have.

"Um Lisbon, you wouldn't happen to have a tie would you?"

"Hmm?"

Her voice sounds sleepy, contented, relaxed. She must've enjoyed the little bit of pampering I was able to give her.

"A tie," I repeat.

Her body jolts and she sits up straighter.

"Oh, yeah sure."

She reaches into the breast pocket of her nightshirt, pulls out a small elastic band and hands it back to me.

Snapping it into place I then smooth back a stray strand of hair and hook it around one of her small ears.

"Okay, all done Miss Lisbon."

"Thanks," she says, reaching back, touching the braid to feel if it's up to par.

"Is it to your satisfaction my lady?"

"Stop that, and yes it is," she replies turning to sink into the cushions of the sofa.

"Stop what?" I ask innocently.

"You know what."

"Very well, you wish is my command."

She sighs loudly and shakes her head, saying with actions 'you're hopeless'.

"Sorry," she says, gesturing to my teacup. "It's probably cold by now."

"No problem, I can get some more."

I stand, head to the kitchen, pour my cold tea down the sink, come back and again sit down.

While I was gone Lisbon had taken the blanket from the back of the couch and curled herself up snuggly in it. She looks adorable.

"I take it you would like me to pour," I observe and pick up the teapot, preparing to give us both a cup.

"Yes please," she answers cozily.

I'm not sure how someone answers cozily, but she managed to.

I hand her one of the cups then take up my own and lean back to enjoy the chamomile... and the company.

It really is very soothing... The tea, not the company... Though that's very soothing too... Teresa's company.

After we've finished I clear up the tea things and make to leave.

Lisbon unwraps herself from her cocoon and walks me to the door to bid me a proper goodnight.

"Sorry, I wasn't much of a hostess making you do all the work."

"Not at all Lisbon, I was happy to do it," I refute. "I had a lovely time tonight."

She raises her eyebrows at me.

"It was a job not a date Jane."

"I know, but I still enjoyed myself. And as far as I'm concerned it most certainly was a date," I state resolutely. "It's just missing one thing."

Lisbon stares at me, unsure and nervous.

Before she can find an excuse to step back I lean forward and plant a soft kiss on her cheek.

I admit I linger a little longer than is absolutely proper, but it's so nice and I have no wish to help it.

I can actually feel her skin start to warm with a slight blush. That's when I decide it would probably be a good idea if I pull back.

"That's better," I say casually, not wanting to cause her anymore embarrassment by my overtures of affection.

"Goodnight Jane."

Her blush has faded now.

"Goodnight Teresa."

For some reason it didn't seem fitting to use her surname given the situation.

I whistle softly on my way home, completely satisfied with the evening's turn of events, even if the job aspect of it didn't go off so well. But really, who cares about some couple who are cheating on each other? I got to kiss Teresa Lisbon. And if that's not considered a successful night, I don't know what is.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Don't hesitate to review if you feel the urge. I very much enjoy hearing what you think. Whether it be a criticism or a compliment.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thank you CrazerCat for your review on Chapter 3. You're a great encouragement. :)

Chapter 4

Lisbon and I arrive at the office at the same time the next day. As soon as we've made it inside, Minelli's secretary Grace Van Pelt informs us both he wants to see us right away.

"Have you seen the paper this morning?" Minelli asked directly we'd entered his office.

I knew I hadn't. I don't really have much interest in newspapers. Reporters over exaggerate everything. Not that I blame them too much, the news business is tough, brutal even. For many of them the only important thing is to sell papers, and that takes a few 'white' lies.

"No. Why?" Lisbon answers.

Minelli chucks a paper across his desk in our direction. Lisbon catches it.

"Down at the bottom," Virgil explains.

I look over Lisbon's shoulder to see what has caused our boss to become so antsy. One of the headlines stands out to me.

'WELL KNOWN BUSINESSMAN MURDERED, CBI IN CHARGE OF INVESTIGATION'

"Don't tell me," Lisbon says after she's read it. "The dead guy is our well know businessman."

"Yep," the elderly man answers. "This is a mess."

"Why?" I ask. "Our job is done. He's dead, it's the CBI's problem now."

"That's where you're wrong Jane. It is our problem. I got a call from Mrs. Flynn just this morning; she wants us to keep on the case."

"What for?" Lisbon questions.

"I don't know. Maybe she doesn't like cops."

"Maybe she's the murderer and would rather have someone she's paying investigating," I reason.

"How would that do her any if she's the murderer Jane?" Lisbon asks me. "The CBI are going to be investigating this case whether we do or not."

"I don't know... yet."

"Before you convict our employer of murder Jane, you might want to meet her," Minelli interjects.

"Oh, and when am I going to do that?"

"Any time. She's coming in to talk."

"What about?"

"She didn't say."

"Well, I suppose we should prepare ourselves for a visitor then. I'll go make the tea."

"I'll help you," Lisbon says, which is code for, 'I want to talk to you.'

When we reach the office Teresa and I share Lisbon wastes no time.

"Okay, why do you think it's the wife?"

"It usually is Lisbon, you know that."

"Yeah, I guess."

"What's the matter? Feeling the urge to protect the reputation of your sex?"

"Don't be ridiculous Jane. I'm just a little hesitant to cast her as our first suspect when we haven't even met her."

"Innocent until proven guilty and all that," I finish for her. "And I agree of course. It was only a thought."

Turning on the small stove in the corner of our office I put the kettle on to boil and go in search of our best china, (a few old mugs I'll most likely have to wash in order to make them usable).

By the time Lisbon and I have scrounged up what tea service we can Mrs. Flynn has arrived.

We both observe as Grace takes the tea tray while leading her into Minelli's office.

She's younger than her late husband by more than a few years. She carries herself well and from what I can see of her she is what one would classify as a very beautiful woman.

A few minutes go by before Virgil has Grace bring Lisbon and myself to his office.

At our entrance Mrs. Flynn looks over her shoulder at the both of us. She only glances at Lisbon but spends more time on me. I suppose I could flatter myself that she liked what she saw, but there was something about her expression that made me cringe inside. Rather like a deadly cobra.

It only takes me a second to know that this woman has had men wrapped around her little finger her whole life. Well, here's one man she won't charm easily.

"Thank you Miss Van Pelt, that will be all," Minelli dismisses Grace with a kind smile.

"Yes sir," the young woman answers, and leaves the room.

"Mrs. Flynn, these are my partners Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon," Virg introduces.

She shakes my hand while saying, "A pleasure Mr. Jane," but practically bypasses Lisbon completely. Only deigning to look her over critically and comment, "Well, Miss Lisbon, a private detective. What an unusual profession for a woman."

The woman was sitting down and I swear she still managed to look down her nose at Teresa, who was standing.

It didn't effect Lisbon at all, at least not that I could see, but by heaven I certainly felt the insult of the 'lady's' barely concealed contempt for my partner.

My spin straightened in irritation, but I tried to keep said irritation from making itself known on my face. Then I slid a chair from one corner of the office and offered it to Lisbon. She sat down and crossed her legs demurely. I remained standing since there were no other chairs available.

Minelli cleared his throat, a somewhat uncomfortable expression on his face. Obviously he had recognized Mrs. Flynn's slight as well.

"Mrs. Flynn has just been clarifying for me her reason for wanting us to continue with this case."

"And what is your reason ma'am?" I ask her.

She looks me directly in the eye. I'll give this much to her; she's cool as a cucumber for someone who just recently murdered her husband. Yes, she is most definitely the killer.

"I've never been particularly impressed by law enforcement. They're paid such a small amount that I can hardly see them doing as thorough a job as someone who is paid a great deal," she answers.

Good grief can she lay on the insults. Now I fell offended for my former colleagues in the CBI. It's true they aren't given a large salary, but I can testify personally that that has no bearing on the quality with which they do their work.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch Lisbon's impassive expression fall just a little.

The woman never ceases to amaze me. When she is personally insulted she won't react, but when people she admires are she does.

I'm tempted to snidely say to Mrs. Snooty Pants, 'Really, and how could you possibly know that?" buy I restrain myself and instead respond with a simple, "Ah."

"So," she continues. "Will you keep on the case?"

Minelli seems to hesitate for a moment, but a job is a job and in this economy you take what you can get, even if you don't like your client.

"Yes, of course Mrs. Flynn," he replies.

"Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me I really have to go."

She stood and looked at me expectantly. It took me a second to realize she intended me to open the door for her. I did so, though it irked me to do it, but I suppose one should be courteous even to women who are not true ladies.

After I'm sure she's out of earshot I turn back to my colleagues and say, "That has to be one of the most uppity women I've every had the misfortune to meet."

Lisbon stands from her chair and puts it back in it's proper place.

I kick myself subconsciously that I hadn't taken notice and done it for her.

"Well, I guess we should go and see if they'll let us take a look at the crime scene photos," she says. 'They' meaning the CBI.

I nod absently and look down at the tea tray sitting on the desk.

"Will you look at that? Mrs. Snobby Britches didn't even take any tea."

"Good old Jane, always aware of the real calamities in life," she mumbles sarcastically.

"Hey, I just think it was rude of her not to have any when we took the trouble to make it for her. And what do you mean old?" I demand as she walks out of the office.

"Oh for Pete's sake Jane," she sighs exasperatedly.

:) ;P 8D

On our way to CBI headquarters I confide in Lisbon what I didn't want to tell Minelli just yet.

"It's her."

"What's who?"

"Don't act ignorant Lisbon, I know you know what I'm talking about."

"Fine. Why do you think it was her?"

"Didn't see the woman? Pure reptile."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Coldblooded," I explain. "And her eyes... like a snake's."

"Always good reasons to suspect someone of murder," she says snidely.

"Exactly."

"Jane, I wasn't actually serious. You have to have something more than cold, reptilian, snake eyes to convict someone of murder."

"Really Lisbon, even with all the years we've know each other and you still don't trust my gut?"

"No, you big baby, I'm not saying that. I'm saying we need more than just your gut to go on."

"And that's precisely what we're doing now Lisbon," I reply as we arrive at the CBI.

"We'll find evidence of her guilt. I'm sure of it."

"If these guys don't kick us to the curb."

"Now, now my dear, don't be so cynical. I'm sure they'll be only too happy to have us as temporary comrades," I disagree with an optimistic attitude.

"Right, because they're just itching to work with you again."

"Is that your way of saying you don't like having me as your partner?" I tease as we climb the stairs leading up to the main doors of the government building.

"I'm acclimatized to you Jane, I don't really care anymore, but I still remember what you put me through when we first met and I feel sorry for anyone who has to go through the same thing," she answers calmly, like she's commenting on the weather.

"Ouch," I let a wounded expression communicate the injury I've endured from her statement as I open the door for her like a gentleman.

She doesn't seem too concerned about the effect her slight has had and only gives me a small smirk and a smarty-pants remark.

"You kind of asked for it you know."

I humph audibly and sulk for a good while in the duration of our wait to meet with the CBI agents who have the Flynn case.

Of course we had to stretch the truth a bit and say we have important information on their murder investigation.

Well, they weren't going to simply let us in if we'd given them the real reason for our visit. It's a known fact that the different branches of law enforcement don't appreciate the courtesy of sharing with each other. Especially not to free lancers like Lisbon and myself.

"Jane?"

A tall man is looking down at me with surprise written all over his face.

"Hey Rigsby," I greet with warmth.

Wayne Rigsby is one of the agents on the team I worked the Red John case with.

And he's not the only one here I know. Standing next to the human tree is Special Agent Kimball Cho, the Boss. He's much shorter and stockier than his young subordinate.

It's not surprising that his team has the case. They're the best of all the teams in the CBI.

"What are you doing here Jane?" my former superior asks.

Good old Cho, always to the point.

I don't bother lying to him; there's no point.

"We're here to help you with the Flynn case."

"We don't work with civilians Jane, you know that."

"Yes, but we're private detectives."

"What's your point?"

"That was my point."

Lisbon rolls her eyes toward the ceiling.

"Agent Cho," she interjects. "I don't know if you remember me..."

"I remember you detective," he cuts in. "The Tommy Volker case."

"Right. We're kind of in the same situation this time too. Mrs. Flynn hired us to follow her husband a few days ago. Now she wants us to continue and investigate Mr. Flynn's death."

"She thought he was cheating on her."

"Yes. Now, there wasn't much in the news report so we were hoping you could let us see the crime scene photos and whatever other information you've collected."

"Like I said detective, we don't work with civilians."

"Yeah, I know. You said that ten years ago and I stayed on that case."

"That's because Jane disobeyed orders and brought you in on the investigation without authorization."

I step in knowing these two could go at it like this all day.

"I could just get the Director to accept Lisbon and I as temporary consultants. You know how much he likes my work."

"Okay, you go do that. Then you can work this case."

With this very final statement Cho, with Rigsby in tow, marches out of the room.

As soon as they've left Lisbon leans toward me and asks, "Can you really do that?"

"Probably," is my reply.

To my not altogether encouraging reassurance Lisbon's face contorts to an expression of resignation.

"We're sunk."

* * *

Thanks for reading. Have a be-a-u-tiful day.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: MartyMc49, tikismile, CrazerCat and Rosepeony, thanks. You guys (and everyone who's reviewed), have been unbelievably kind in your comments. You have no idea what it means to me. Thank you.

Chapter 5

"So what do you say now Doubting Thomas?" I ask of my partner with supreme smugness.

"Gloating is not a good look on you," she replies.

"I think I have some excuse for gloating. It wasn't easy getting Bertram to bring us both in on the case."

"Please, you have that man wrapped around your little finger," she says, obviously unimpressed.

"Well, I must admit it is convenient that the Director owes me one."

"What exactly does he owe you for?"

I tut her reproachfully.

"I never con and tell Lisbon."

"You conned the Director of the CBI?"

"Who said that?"

"You just did."

"No I didn't."

She's giving me one of her murderous glares now.

"You know what, fine, don't tell me. I don't care."

"Liar," I accuse.

I have now reached the switch between glaring-at-you Lisbon and ignoring-you Lisbon. She quickens her pace and walks ahead of me on our way to the CBI bullpen where we're meeting up with Cho.

When we get there I look around the familiar room. It's nice to be back for a little while, but I certainly don't regret my decision in quitting. I was never really cut out for police work. You might say that working as a private detective isn't much different, but that's not entirely true. As a private detective you have more leeway than you do as an officer of the law. You'd have to experience what I'm talking about to understand it properly.

"Hannigan," I address the heavyset man with his back to me. "Still around? I would've thought you'd have retired by now."

He faces me and gives me a curt nod accompanied by a gruff, "Jane."

As you can see we're not really what one would classify as friendly acquaintances.

He's the third member of Cho's team. I don't have to tell you that when we worked together it was like a snowstorm in Florida. It didn't go over well. But we tolerated each other...barely.

Just as the silence that follows Hannigan's and my brief exchange begins to get awkward Cho and Rigsby arrive. As soon as they walk in Hannigan skedaddles. He really doesn't like me.

"Well Cho, didn't think I could pull if off did you?" I ask my temporary superior.

"I did, Rigsby didn't," he answers.

I grin knowingly at the young agent.

"How much did you lose?"

He hangs his head a bit in embarrassment.

"A tenner."

"When will you learn, Wayne? I always win," I say while shaking my head at him.

"Always, Jane?" Lisbon jumps into the conversation.

Oh no, here we go.

"May I remind you of a certain bet we had. Do you remember what happened with that one?" she takes a dramatic pause. "That's right sweetie-pie, you lost." Her tone is mocking.

That won't do, that won't do at all.

I tilt my head to one side and give her my just-you-wait look.

"Well I have to let you win sometimes darling. What kind of a lover would I be if I didn't?"

I can tell I've hit pay-dirt. Lisbon's eyes grow wide in rage and her expression is supremely scandalized.

"Wait," Rigsby stutters. "You and Jane are..."

Lisbon and I both cut him off at the same time with opposite answers.

"No."

"Yes."

She smacks me soundly upside the head and I let out a little yelp of pain.

"No we most definitely are not," she states firmly.

I know it's liable to land me with another smack...or a punch to the nose, but I can't help myself.

"Oh come now, Teresa, why deny it?" I say while putting my arm around her shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

She shoves me off none to gently a moment later.

Cho steps in at this point, apparently having had enough of my foolishness.

"Cut it out, Jane," he commands, then turns to Lisbon and hands her a file. "Here's the case photos and the interviews we've conducted so far."

My partner gives me one last glare before taking the offered case file.

"Did you get Erica Flynn's statement?" I ask him, now fully back into work mode.

"Yes."

"And did she have a solid alibi for the time of the murder?"

"Yes."

"Who was her witness, a man or a woman?"

"A man. Why?"

"Just as I expected," I mutter under my breath. "Was he young."

"Yes," he responds one again. "Where are you going with this?"

"Oh come on, Cho, surely you've realized he was lying."

"Why would he do that?"

Ah, I forgot. Cho has almost no reaction to seductive women. It makes sense that he wouldn't understand a man who does.

"Because he's in love with her."

"Hold up, Jane," Lisbon interrupts. "You've never even met this kid and you're already convinced he's in love with her?"

"Of course. I'm telling you Lisbon, Erica Flynn is our killer."

"Wait, what?" poor, confused Rigsby burbles. He's a good agent, but kind of slow.

"Maybe she is," Lisbon continues, "but let's at least investigate all the possible leads before we plop her in front of a judge."

"Fine," I capitulate. "But after we've investigated these other none existent leads you'll agree that I'm right."

"Possibly," she declares stubbornly. "Until then we do this the right way."

"I know, I know," I say petulantly. "With good solid detective work. I've heard the speech before Lisbon."  
I turn to Cho, "Now, what was the name of her alibi?"

"Peter Clarridge."

"And where can we find him?"

"He was the dead guy's right hand man, so probably at Flynn's offices."

"Thanks Cho," I say appreciatively, then take hold of Lisbon's arm and start leading her toward the CBI elevator. "Come on; let's go talk to this young rooster."

"Jane, would you stop pulling. I'm perfectly capable of walking without being manhandled," she grips indignantly and wrenches her arm from my grasp.

She must still be upset and the lover thing. Maybe I was a little too indelicate with that one, but she's so easy it's hard to retrain myself from ruffling her feathers from time to time.

"Manhandled," I exclaim. "Really, Lisbon, I do not manhandle."

The only answer I receive from my partner is an irritated huff as she punches the down button on the elevator more forcefully than necessary.

I get the feeling I'm going to be in the dog house for a while.

:) ;p 8D

"I already answered the other agent's questions," and agitated looking Peter was saying.

"Yes I know Mr. Clarridge," Lisbon answers in a tone meant to placate the young man. "But if you'll just give us a few minutes of your time..."

"I have nothing more to say to you," he cuts her off rudely.

I don't have a lot of patience with men who are rude to ladies, especially ladies who I'm partial to. It's time to put this whippersnapper in his place.

"Why have you been lying to the police, Peter?" I interject suddenly.

"What?"

The expression on his face brings to my mind the image of a fish out of water.

"You heard me. Why have you been claiming to be Mrs. Flynn's alibi the night of her husband's murder?"

His gaping mouth shuts. He squares his shoulders and raises his chin. No doubt in an effort to give the impression he is in control of the situation. Idiotic trout.

"I have not been lying," he replies stoutly.

I must give him points for trying. He did the tough guy act fairly well for a kid still wet behind the ears and quaking in his polished boots.

"Oh but you have, Peter. You most certainly have."

I move into his body space. He glances at Lisbon. Perhaps he is in hopes that she will control her 'bat nuts crazy' colleague. However, I know positively he'll receive no such help from her. Lisbon and I have known each other long enough to know how the other operates in situations such as this.

"And why is that?" I ask rhetorically, "Could it have something to do with the fact that you're in love with the widow of your employer?"

His breathing has elevated. I'm getting to him.

"It's not true," he states lamely. He really is a terrible liar.

"Really? So it's not true that you became Mrs. Flynn's confidant. Her shoulder to cry on because of the abuse her husband put her through, all the mistresses?"

"No," he answers weakly.

And that's Lisbon's queue.

"Peter," she says while looking him straight in the eye. "If we find out you're lying to us, and believe me we will, then you'll be brought up on charges for being an accomplice in John Flynn's murder."

This tactic usually works quickly on people with a threshold as low as his, but I sense that this time is going to be a bit more difficult than it normally is. He's been pulled too far into Erica Flynn's lies.

"Mrs. Flynn did not kill her husband," he insists. "But if you knew what he did to her you wouldn't be able to fault her for murdering him if she had."

Apparently no one has ever taught him the skill of playing a believable bluff. If you're trying to keep someone out of the hangman's noose you don't give the police the very information they need to prove she had substantial motive to kill her husband.

"What are you talking about?" Lisbon asks.

"He's saying Flynn abused her," I explain.

"It wasn't just abuse," Peter continues, under the misconception that we are starting to believe him. "He was cheating on her."

"We already know that," Lisbon says.

"But do you know that was doing it with..."

He hesitates and flushes slightly.

"With?" she urges him.

"Ladies of the night, Lisbon," I clarify.

"Prostitutes? Really?" she questions with surprise.

"It's not really that shocking. Hookers are willing to...ahem...do things that his high-class girlfriends probably found to be distasteful," I reply. Then turn to Peter and say, "So you followed him on his nightly excursions."

"Only once," the young man is quick to correct.

"What part of the city did you follow him to?"

Neither Lisbon or I are surprised to hear that the location Peter gives us is where John Flynn's body was found.

It's a bad neighborhood. Erica probably killed him there to make it look like some random thug murdered him. Not such a bad idea when you consider how antagonistic some of the 'down-and-out' are toward the upper class these days.

With out new lead in hand Lisbon and I left Nervous Pete and headed back to our own headquarters to update Minelli on our progress.

* * *

Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear what you think. :) P.S. Pardon for the "lover thing". Not sure it actually worked, but I decided to just go with it anyway. Hope it wasn't too distastefully done.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Thank you all for your encouraging, kind and lovely reviews. It means so much.

Also, yippee on TM getting renewed for a 7th season! Such good news!

Chapter 6

"Jane," Minelli groans as he rests his forehead against one hand.

"Come on, Virgil. The evidence is all there. She's our killer," I argue.

"Evidence? Jane, you don't have any evidence. Just two people you think are lying."

"No, two people I know are lying."

"You say potato..."

"Virg..."

"You do know that if Mrs. Flynn does turn out to be the murderer we don't get paid for this job."

"Oh stop. That's exactly why she told us to keep on the case. She knows we need this job and she thought she could manipulate us into helping her. But she can't. Because you know as well as I do that you'd never let her get away with it on account of us being pinched for money. Besides, Cho's team will have this case cracked before you know it anyway. Especially since they've got me consulting."

Lisbon, who up until now has been a silent member of the conversation, pipes up in an irritated voice.

"Yes, of course, Jane. Especially since they've got you consulting."

"Now don't be like that, Lisbon..."

"Well, I mean since they've got you there's no reason why they should need me. Basically I'm a glorified baby-sitter."

"Baby-sitter!" I exclaim.

"What else would you call it?" she asks indignantly.

I'm not sure why she's biting my head off like this. Maybe she's still upset about the joke I made in front of Cho and Rigsby. But if she thinks I don't value her...

"It's not as if I was trying to make out that you don't have any use in the investigation."

"Then pray tell what were you trying to make out?" she questions, putting extra emphasis on the last two words.

"I..."

"Both of you cut it out!" Minelli hollers.

Lisbon reacts instantaneously, her expression of anger changes to one of embarrassment and shame that she'd forgotten herself and had just been openly fighting with me in front of the boss.

Virg lets out a sigh and leans back in his chair.

Teresa has a look on her face that I imagine occurred infrequently when she was a student at Catholic school. It's one of those, 'I got scolded by the Mother Superior,' looks... submissive and repentant.

"Sorry, Boss," she says, at a much lower decibel than the one she'd been using with me only moments before.

A pang of guilt strikes me. She shouldn't be apologizing. I'm the one that started it with that stupid, egotistical comment.

Feeling more contrite, I also make an apology.

Minelli rubs a hand over his eyes and all three of us are silent for a few moments until Lisbon speaks up again.

"Sir, I know there's no real hard evidence to support what we're proposing here, but after all, it's a Jane hunch... There's a reason you hired him."

I look at her gratefully. The woman is much more loyal a partner than I deserve.

Minelli looks at Lisbon, then at me.

"Okay. Let's say you're right, Jane. How do you intend to prove Erica Flynn murdered her husband?"

I hesitate.

"That I don't know yet," I answer. "But I'm working on it."

He gives me a look that says it all, 'God help us.'

"Well," I say as we exit Virgil's office. "That went well I think."

"Oh yeah, just great," Lisbon replies with a tone of insincerity.

"Come now, don't be so grumpy. You'll make a permanent line between your eyebrows if you're not careful."

She doesn't seem too appreciative of my advice.

"I swear, Jane, if we find out this Flynn woman isn't the killer after all the trouble you've put me through, I think I'm going to punch you in the nose."

"Well that's not a very partner-ly attitude, Lisbon."

"It is when a person has you as a partner. And really, Jane? 'Partner-ly'? That's not even a word."

"Of course it is," I insist.

"In what dictionary?"

"Jane's," I answer with a smirk.

Teresa comes back at me with a sarcastic, "Ha, ha."

I flash her one of my Cheshire grins.

She shakes her head at me, but can't quite subdue the amused smile playing about her lips.

"So what's the plan," she says, steering the conversation back into work.

"Find someone who saw Mrs. Flynn murdering her husband."

"Oh yes? And just how do you propose we do that?"

"By picking up a hooker," I reply, as if it's obvious.

"Excuse me?"

She's looking at me like I've gone off my rocker.

"By picking up a hooker," I repeat.

Teresa raises her hand to her face and firmly pinches the bridge of her nose with two fingers.

"Rhetorical, Jane," she sighs. "It was a rhetorical question."

"I know."

She looks at me sharply.

"Then why did you... You know what? Never mind. Just tell me, in detail, what the plan is."

"In detail?"

"Yes."

"Okay, here it is. I go in incognito and look around for the prostitute near the alley where Flynn was murdered. When I find her Cho takes her in for questioning, she tells us all about witnessing Erica killing her husband, and Bob's your uncle, we have that snob of a woman in the slammer by morning."

Lisbon opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again.

"I... How can you be so sure one of the prostitutes even saw the murder?"

"I can't be, but it's a good bet one did. It's a popular site for them."

"But if one of them did see the murder why haven't they come forward about it?"

"Think about it, Lisbon. If you were a hooker and witnessed the murder of one of those Snob-Hill Big Wigs would you want to report it to the police?"

"I see your point."

"Good, now, let's go run the plan by Cho."

Lisbon's expression is one of surprise.

"You're actually going to tell him what you're up to?"

"Of course, in a sketchy neighborhood like that I'll need him along for the ride. You know, as backup."

"What? You mean I'm not coming?" she asks, disappointed.

"What makes you think that?"

"You just said Cho is going as your backup."

"Yes, and you'll be part of the backup," I explain. "I just think it's a good idea if Cho comes along. After all, there won't be much room for you to hide your big guns in the dress."

Teresa's eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Dress? What dress? And why won't there be much room in it?"

"Because you're going to be undercover with me."

"Yes, but why won't there be much room in this dress?"

I give her a pointed look.

Her eyes widen and she starts shaking her head.

"Oh, no, no, no. Absolutely not. There is no way you're going to get me to go undercover as a..." Lisbon lowers her voice, "prostitute."

"Come on, Teresa. Your help is needed here. I can't very well go to that alley and really pick up a hooker now can I? And it would look odd if I didn't seem like I was there shopping around for some professional company."

"Yes I know, but a hooker," she whines.

"Now, Lisbon, let's keep things in perspective. We are trying to catch a killer after all," I say reasonably while taking her coat from the rack and handing it to her. "Come on, let's go clue in Cho and find you an appropriate costume."

She purses her lips together and glowers at me.

"I hate you."

"No you don't," I contradict her. "You love me."

She doesn't say anything to that just snatches her coat and walks away from me, her heels clicking angrily. On my way to catch up with her I pass Grace's desk. She's busy with some paperwork, but I catch her look of amusement at Lisbon's and my conversation. Just as I'm about to go out the door I turn back and say to her, "She really does you know."

Grace laughs and shakes her head at me, and then I hear Lisbon's irritated voice calling from outside the building, "Jane come on, let's go."

I give the young woman a mischievous smirk and a wink before I retreat through the door and join Lisbon.

:) ;P 8D

I adjust my fedora a bit so it comes further down in the front. The movement of my arms makes the shoulder holster I'm wearing pull somewhat. It's uncomfortable, but Cho said I wasn't coming along unless I was armed so...

His exact words were, "If you get yourself killed I'm landed with the paperwork. You're taking a gun."

Honestly, I'm a little surprised Cho even went for this. He definitely didn't care for the idea of Lisbon going undercover in this particular way, but he agreed to it in the end.

I glance over to where he's watching Teresa and myself while under the guise of being a homeless bum.

He pulls off the look pretty well really.

And speaking of pulling off looks... I give my partner a once over. Partly because I'm supposed to be 'picking her up', but mostly because I just plain want to.

She has painted her full lips in a deep red color that matches the dress snugly hugging her lovely figure. The neckline is low and, knowing she wouldn't want me to stare, I force my eyes to quickly pass over the area and travel down further.

I've never realized what a nice pair of legs Lisbon has. But then again, I've never seen this much of them before.

The hemline of the dress she's wearing stops a good few inches above her knees, the curves of her shapely legs accented by black stockings and high heels.

The whole getup is certainly not something she's used to or comfortable wearing. I can tell that playing this part is making her feel dirty in a way, and I feel sorry for her, even if I am enjoying the view.

Actually, I wish I could give her my overcoat to put on so other people can't ogle her. Like that human leech who's currently cozying up to a leggy, attractive blonde just a few feet away. The low life's giving Teresa a look that makes me want to punch his ugly mug.

Wait a minute... I know that low life. I saw him at the... yes, he was at that club the night Lisbon and I followed John Flynn. And come to think of it, he saw me too.

I grab hold of Teresa and pull her into a darker corner of the alley. She starts to make an involuntary sound of surprise, and in an effort to keep her quiet I do something I've been wanting to do for years.

I kiss her.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Leave a comment as you see fit. Not that I'm digging for reviews, but they are a great encouragement to an author. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: You guys are wonderful, all of you. You're reviews are what keeps this fic going. Thank you. :)

Just to let you know, this story will be on hiatus for a little while on account of that my schedule is going to be rather busy soon. It'll be back in the early part of June, I hope.

Chapter 7

For the first several moments all I can think about is how soft and warm her lips are, but after a few seconds I realize Lisbon isn't reciprocating. In fact, she's less than reciprocating. Her whole body is tensed.

My stomach drops at the thought that I've now caused irreparable damage with my bold behavior.

I begin to pull away, wondering what on earth I'm going to use as an excuse to justify my actions, but before I can move very far Teresa puts her arms around my neck and pulls me back to encase my lips passionately with her own (knocking the fedora from my head in the process).

I was wrong about the cause of her tension, and I've never been so happy to be wrong in my life. It was merely surprise that caused her to react the way she did, not displeasure.

My pulse is pounding in my ears. I can't hear anything besides the seemingly loud beat of my heart. My thoughts are racing, but only one is registering. I want to get closer to her.

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her body against mine, lifting up at the same time to close the distance of the difference in our heights. My gun is in the way, the shoulder holster pulling uncomfortably, but I don't care.

I slid my mouth from hers to plant a series of kisses along her jaw, then drift down to do the same to her neck.

I hear Lisbon moan, her hands coming up to rake through my hair and even though I hate to I know we need to stop.

We're in an alley in the middle of the night and we're supposed to be working the case.

Yes... the case... That man I recognized from the club, and the blonde girl. Something's off about those two... The girl looked scared now that I come to think of it... Maybe she's the one who saw the... Oh heck, I can't concentrate with Teresa nibbling at my bottom lip like that. We really need to stop... now.

I release her reluctantly.

I wish we were in a less public location, and doing this at a more convenient time.

When I've pulled back enough to see Lisbon's face I can tell, even in the dim light, that her cheeks are flushed. Her breathing is coming in short, fast pants.

My reaction to our little love making session isn't much different.

As soon as I have my breathe back I say, somewhat shamefacedly, "Sorry for attacking you. I saw someone I didn't want recognizing me."

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I know they were the wrong ones.

"Oh... right, of course," she replies, her eyes darting away from mine awkwardly.

She tries to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but I can hear it; see it on her face and I rush to reassure her.

"But I'm not sorry about how I attacked you," I say, then lean down a plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Oh."

This time her reaction is pleased. She bites her lip and smiles at me, a hint of shyness creeping into the action.

"So," she says suddenly, her whole demeanor changing. "Who did you see?"

I chuckle. She's adorable.

"What?" she demands.

"Nothing," I answer dismissively while reaching down to grab my hat.

I put it back on, creep along the alley wall and then peek around the corner. Lisbon follows suit and I nod my head in the direction of the man and the blonde hooker.

"Him," I answer her former question. "I don't know who he is, but I remember he was at that club the other night.

Apparently Lisbon knows more about him than I do because when she sees him she exclaims softly, "Oh my... what's he doing here?"

I feel a pang of something flare up inside me. Not jealousy, I know what that feels like. I experienced it not too long ago when Lisbon dated a cop, Marcus Pike, for a month or so. It's more like a feeling of... I'm not sure. It's just, how does Teresa know a man who's currently in the process of buying a woman like she's a piece of meat?

"He who?" I ask a mite tersely.

Yes, I know that was uncalled for. It's not as if she's interested in the guy, but my tone conveyed my irritation anyway and I was too late to stop it. Luckily, Lisbon doesn't seem to have noticed.

"Walter Mashburn," she puts a name to the man. "He's a well known, wealthy, respected businessman. Married too. A German woman. Elsa... something or other."

"How in heaven's name do you know all that?" I ask in surprise.

"Just some article I read in a magazine. Apparently a lot of the single, and married, rich broads fall over themselves for him."

"He sounds charming," I say sarcastically.

I wonder if people would respect him if they knew what kind of shenanigans he was up to behind his wife's back.

I'm snapped out of my ruminations when Lisbon jabs me in the ribs with her elbow and whispers, "They're moving."

I look up and see Mashburn and the blonde heading toward a vehicle parked by the curb.

"We need to bring those two in," I inform Lisbon quietly.

"Why?" she questions.

"I've got a hunch."

I can practically feel her rolling her eyes at me.

"Fine," she huffs. "Cho can book the girl for solicitation. We can bring Mashburn along for questioning."

"Excellent. Now let's go clue Cho in on the picture."

:) ;p 8D

"I'm not saying anything," the sassy blonde says as soon as Cho and I enter the interrogation room. "I don't talk to cops."

"Oh well that's fine then," I say in a chipper tone. "We're not cops, we're agents."

She looks me up and down with a critical eye and all of a sudden I feel insufficiently clothed... if you know what I mean.

There's not very many people who have that effect on me. This young woman might prove to be an interesting character yet.

"You don't look like an agent," she observes after she's finished her perusal. "You look more like on of those creepy magician people."

Cho and I take our seats on the opposite side of the interrogation table.

"What makes you say that?" I ask, in an effort to keep her in conversation.

"All the pockets. I mean come on, who wears a three piece suit in this kind of weather, except for rich dudes. And you're not one of them."

I nod my head in approval.

"You're good, Miss... I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Don't play charming with me, magician man," she replies with a sneer. "I know you know what my name is. It's right there in that file silent brooder here has got."

She inclines her head toward Cho for the 'silent brooder' part.

I plaster on a deceptively pleasant smile.

"You've got me, Miss Edgecomb. But just to make things clear, I'm not a magician, I'm a consultant, and I know all about you."

"Sure you do, Sparky," she says incredulously.

I hold out my hand and Cho hands me the file.

"Summer Edgecomb," I read aloud. "Charged with two cases of solicitation."

I glance up just in time to see a minuscule expression of relief briefly wash over the girl's face.

"Is that it?" she asks, her attitude reminding me very much of a spoiled child. "You dragged me in here for that?"

"No. See, we deal with cases of homicide, and we want to ask you a few questions about the man you were with when we picked you up tonight."

Except for a slight press of her splayed hand against the flat of the table she gives off no sign of a reaction.

"Him?" she says lightly. A little too lightly.

"Mhm."

"I don't know anything about him. He just offered to buy me a drink."

I'll give this to her. She's a good liar.

Time for a different tactic.

I nod to Cho. He's better than I am with the kind of overt bluntness that can make you feel like you want to disclose all your deepest, darkest secrets.

"What can you tell us about the murder of John Flynn?"

And there we've got her.

She removes her hands from the table and stares down blankly.

"What is it?" I urge.

She shakes her bent head repeatedly.

"Come on, Summer. What do you know?"

"I can't say anything."

"Yes you can."

"No." She looks up and I see genuine fear in her eyes. "I can't. He'll kill me."

"No one's going to hurt you," Cho says in an unusually comforting tone.

"Yeah right," she says with a scornful laugh. "And who'll make sure of that? You?"

"Yes," comes his monosyllabic reply.

Well... this is weird. I feel like I'm intruding on an intimate conversation for some reason.

And now they're just looking at each other like they're the only two people in the room.

I'm about to clear my throat in an attempt to snap them out of their staring contest when Summer says, "Fine. I'll talk."

:) ;p 8D

By the time we've finished with the interview Lisbon and Rigsby are done with Mashburn and waiting for us in the bullpen.

Hannigan is conspicuously absent. Cho must be attempting to keep all head butting to a minimum.

"We couldn't get anything out of Mashburn," Rigsby informs his boss.

"Doesn't matter," I say. "Summer talked."

"Really?" Lisbon asks in surprise.

"Yep, and it's all thanks to Cho here."

I smirk mischievously and clap a hand on the stoic agent's shoulder. "It seems she's taken quite a liking to our Kimball."

Cho doesn't bother trying to physically remove me from his proximity. Instead he simply gives me a look. You might know the kind I'm talking about. A rather bored expression, but with deadly undertones.

I move my hand from his person and back away to stand in the more inviting personal space of Lisbon.

She rolls her eyes at me while fighting to keep an amused smile from showing on her face. The effort doesn't do much good though. I can still see the humor swirling clearly in her lovely mossy-green eyes.

Those beautiful eyes that make me feel as if I'm... ahem... getting a tad distracted.

"What did the girl tell you?" Lisbon is asking Cho as I drift from my ocular musings back into the current discussion.

"Erica Flynn killed her husband," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Than let's go pick her up," says a pleased Rigsby.

Young, noble, naïve Rigsby. He sometimes fails to remember about certain things that tie into being a law-enforcement officer that brings criminals to justice. Judges. Crooked judges to be precis, and there's no shortage of them I can tell you. I always remember, that's part of the reason why I left. It's depressing to watch people you know are guilty walking away from their just deserves because of dishonest politicians.

"You're forgetting something, Wayne," I tell the young agent. "Peter Clarridge. It's his word against Summer's. Do you really think a judge is going to take a hooker's word over that of the assistant to a respected businessman?"

"Mashburn was threatening her to keep her quiet. Maybe that'll pull some weight," Cho suggests in a tone that only those who know him could distinguish as being less than confident.

"Again, a hooker's work against someone a jury would be more willing to believe," I say morosely. "And besides that, a judge isn't going to be in any hurry to condemn a man, who could probably get him fired, as an accomplice to murder."

"Just a minute," Rigsby cuts in. "Why is Mashburn threatening the prostitute?"

"Because he's Erica's lover and she asked him to," I answer impatiently.

I realize I'm being snippy, it's just... this whole situation makes me angry.

Lisbon takes my hand in her's covertly and says quietly, so only I can hear, "Take it easy, Jane. He didn't know."

I look at Rigsby a little shame-faced and mumble a gruff, "sorry".

Teresa releases my hand (I sort of wish she hadn't, but, oh well), and lets out a frustrated sigh. "So, what do we do now?"

Yes, that's a better idea. Focus on what to do.

"We go for Peter," I say. "He's the key. If we can get him to admit he wasn't with Erica the night of the murder then there's not a snowball's chance in hell of her getting away with this."

Lisbon comes back with one name, "Mashburn."

I smile proudly at her. She's caught onto my plan.

"Exactly. Mashburn is having an affair with the woman Peter's in love with. If we convince Clarridge of this he'll give her up."

"How are you going to do that?" queries Rigsby.

"Yeah. The kid's smitten pretty bad you said," Cho adds.

"Oh come on, you remember working with Jane, Cho," Lisbon reprimands lightly. "He makes this stuff up as he goes."

"Hey!" I complain. "I'll have you know, Miss Lisbon, that I've got an idea. A good one."

"Than what is it?"

I hesitate to answer her. Because she's right. I don't really have a fixed plan right at this very moment.

"I don't think I want to tell you," I answer petulantly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Come on, Jane. Spill," begs a curious Wayne.

"Fine," I concede just as an idea strikes me. "We get Peter to catch the two of them together."

Cho looks at me with his usual blank expression. Rigsby raises his eyebrows in a gesture of skepticism and murmurs sarcastically, "Like we'll be able to make sure that happens."

Lisbon's reaction is more of the, 'Oh great, here we go again,' sort.

But I know they'll go along with it. Just like they always have.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Review as you wish. I always like hearing from my lovely readers.


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